


Never Have I Ever

by achaosstory



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:53:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29184327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/achaosstory/pseuds/achaosstory
Summary: Will sees Hannibal in a different light after seeing him with Abigail. They develop a closer relationship and work on a new case together.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter
Kudos: 3





	Never Have I Ever

**Author's Note:**

> I'm watching the Hannibal TV series for the first time and am halfway through Season 2 at the moment. It's going to take off from after the Abigail moment. I'm not sure where this is going but I don't think I'll stick to the TV story line. I've yet to decide. Its also my first time writing in 1st person so let me know what you think.

It wasn't often that I felt a sense of calmness in Dr Lecter's office but today had been a particularly different day. The murder of Garrett Jacob Hobbs at my own hand to one side, I hadn't expected to see Hannibal with Abigail in the hospital, let alone freshly clothed and asleep, his hand on hers. The sight had touched me in a way, but I was sure this was more professional curiosity than anything. It was nearing midnight but I didn't care. I had an overwhelming urge to decompress and I knew I'd just fidget until I had done so.

"Can I ask you a question for once?" I began and you looked up from the red wine you are nursing rather thoughtfully. It was unusual to see you so pensive, you often looked like you were analysing the world and came to conclusions quickly in the process. I admired the way that even with a sweater on and an unbuttoned collar you still manage to look dishevelled but put together. I was pretty sure I looked like a sweaty teenager by comparison, but it didn't seem to bother you. You looked right through me as though I didn't have any clothes; or skin for that matter. It was more than a little unsettling but I'd learnt to ignore it as best I could.

"Of course, Will. We are but inquisitive creatures after all." You said in your perfectly measured monotone. You stopped swirling the crimson liquid in the glass and set it down, hands resting in your lap as you studied me for any kind of preview as to what I may be about to say. It was obvious that I had piqued your interest as our time in your office was often tense and more of a one sided argument than a discussion but it was obvious the atmosphere today was different. I tried to keep myself as calm as possible as to not give away the intention behind my questioning.

"You looked so at peace with Abigail today. I came to see her in the hospital and was surprised to see you asleep by her side." I started, still not entirely sure how to phrase the question I was dying to ask, so I paused for a moment and began examining the ragged cuff of my shirt, picking at a loose thread. I heard you rearrange in your seat and I guessed that the destruction of my own clothes was unsettling to you, given the amount of pride you took in your own appearance. I continued, and didn't raise my gaze, feeling your eyes boring into the top of my head.

"Is there a question here, Will?" You ask after a too-long silence. It was a therapy technique and one that you seem to favour, the uncomfortable silence. I assumed that your patients would just ramble on rather than sit in the uncomfortable stillness and it would often tell you more than their pre-rehearsed words ever could. I didn't like the silences, but I liked the thought of you controlling the conversation less. There was an obvious power imbalance between us and I always felt like an inferior child in your presence ; a stray vying for attention.

"Why don't, didn't" I corrected myself mid flow once i'd carefully considered my phrasing. "You have children." I wanted to continue the question, give context to it, but he was sure to drag it out of me one way or another so I'd let him win this one as a reward for discussing a more intimate topic. The darker corner of the room became my new area of focus as I tried to dispel the uncomfortable feeling the darkness gave me on occasion.

"I suppose, I had never really considered it until today. I've never really been the "marrying kind"" You began, a wry smile to punctuate the absurdity of the point. "I could ask the same of you but we both know that the 7 types of animal fur clinging almost unnoticed to your shirt would say otherwise. Children represent innocence, and I've never really felt particularly ready to deal with innocence." You continued, a miniscule gester in my direction and I began examining my shirt for any signs of the aforementioned dog hair. There were a few here and there but nothing a normal person would pick up on, I decided. I was somewhat shocked by the honesty but it was replaced with an internal scoff as the conversation predictably turned to myself.

"Innocent isn't the word I'd use around you. That's for sure." I said before I could catch myself and inwardly cursed myself for letting my guard down. I readjusted in my seat, staring at the beer in the glass beside me, watching the bubbles dissipate. You'd insisted on a glass but i'm not sure why that had shocked me, but the insistence when I tried to suggest it wasn't necessary was somewhat of a shock. It was clear you liked to control things as much as possible; even down to drinking vessels that guests had in your company.

When I finally looked up - the silence finally too much to bear this time - I was surprised to meet your intense gaze. Had you been staring at me for the minutes i'd been analysing your drinking choices, or had this been a more recent shift in focus. I couldn't help but hold your gaze for longer than I normally would. Holding a gaze made me feel uncomfortable, most of all with you. It felt like you were staring directly into my soul. The intensity of it was suffocating and controlling but I was more intrigued as to the sudden shift in your demeanor. "I'm sorry, Dr Lecter. That wasn't very... kind of me." I said when it became too much and I snapped my eyes to focusing on the dark corner again, your gaze still not leaving mine. You were one of the few people I had honestly apologized to in a long time, whilst not in a fit of sarcastic anger.

"You don't need to be kind, Will. I won't be offended. I prefer the honesty of the matter. I notice you don't like to hold my gaze whilst we speak. You do so for longer with Jack and Alana; I had deduced I intimidate you. It is not my intention" It was definitely your intention I thought.You got up, wine glass in hand and a smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as I quite obviously reacted to your quick movements and tried my hardest to hide the moment of fear I felt. Of intimidation. The ghost of a smile clearly meant this change in my demeanor hadn't gone unnoticed; why wouldn't it?

"What is it that makes you feel uncomfortable around me?" You asked, and I was shocked to find you standing behind me, pouring yourself some more red wine. The shock was how quickly and silently you had managed to move; the wine was a given. As a man of high social standing you like the finer things in life which were most visible in your clothing and general appearance. It was apparent in other areas of your life too. I hated how pretentious sipping wine was and had therefore asked for a beer. No doubt offending you in the process as you had produced the very beer I had at home. I'd file that thought away for later and revisit it. 

"I think it's just the intensity in which you do things. I feel like you're always analysing the situation, so I can't do or say anything freely. I have to carefully consider how it'll be perceived. Predatory in a way." I said, aware that this was my third beer and a little more than I was used to. My usual mental barriers had been lowered; perfect for you to take advantage of should you so wish. To my surprise you put your hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, then left it resting there as you contemplated your next move. It was clear from the way your breath hitched momentarily that for the first time in a while you weren't sure what to say. I smirked triumphantly and looked up at you, momentarily meeting your gaze. 

"Nothing to say, Dr Lecter?" I took a teasing tone and then patted your hand briefly to show you I meant no harm. A look flashed across your face too quickly for me to determine what it was. It was either annoyance or intrigue, both a very viable response. We'd never really joked together before. Some days I feel like I might never joke again, so this was a welcome respite from that. 

"You know me Will, I like to analyse things." You replied plainly, a slight smirk betraying your otherwise steely appearance. The urge to roll my eyes was strong but I held it together and simply settled with a smile at you. I glanced at my watch out of habit and was surprised it was 1AM already and I wasn't at all tired. 

Luckily I'd set up a dog care arrangement with my neighbours whereby if they walked by on their regimentally timed afternoon walk and the screen door was closed they would check on my dogs and feed and walk them. I really did need to remember to thank them more. 

“What time is your first appointment? I have a feeling we should probably call it a night?" I said, fidgeting as the hand on my shoulder was beginning to feel like lead weighing me down. I put my hand on yours, still on my shoulder and squeezed gently to try and break you out of whatever daydream you were locked in. Your eyes widened momentarily at the contact and slid your hand from underneath mine, shoving it deep into your trouser pocket. 

"Ohh, 9AM. Mr Montoya is often on the… tardy side of things. " You said with disapproving sneer. I gave a half smile at you and hoisted myself from the beautifully ornate chair, a little off guard when the full effects of the alcohol hit me and I wobbled unsteadily back on my heels. Hopefully you hadn't seen that. 

"I'll show you to the guest quarters Will, neither of us are in the right frame of mind to drive to your place. I'm sure I have an old T-shirt around here somewhere you can borrow" You said, tipping the rest of the red wine into your mouth and swallowing it with a low moan of appreciation. I considered my options. Either I called a cab and spent 20 minutes in awkward silence and risked disturbing my dogs when I got back, or staying in this beautifully luxurious house and would more than likely be served breakfast. My mind was clouded by the alcohol and it was too much effort to consider the dangers of either option so I nodded to you in agreement.


End file.
